The Quiet Ones
by Aslan's Lamb
Summary: When you are terrified of traveling and change, when your father forces you to join him on his visit to a distant land and then abandons you at a castle full of strangers...it might take some time for you to find a place. A Golden Age fic.
1. Chapter 1

**This fic is a first for me in many ways. It's my first Golden Age fic. It's also going to have some romance(which I usually avoid). So I'm a little apprehensive but excited. This should be fun. **

**At the time my story starts, the Pevensies have been ruling over Narnia for seven years. **

* * *

Lucy crept along the halls of Cair Paravel in her nightgown, barefoot.

It wasn't because she was doing anything wrong that she had to creep along in this sneaky manner. It was just that she didn't want to alarm anyone and the fact that she had a tremendous cold and was out of bed _would _alarm some people. But she had been in bed all day and had missed the arrival of a nobleman's daughter from Terebinthia and she just couldn't stand it any longer. Even if Susan ordered her back to bed, at least she would_ see_ Susan.

Lucy reached Susan's door and lifted her arm to knock but before she could knock, she sneezed. The door swung open.

"Lucy? What are you doing out of bed?" Susan pulled her into the room. "And where are your slippers?"

"I couldn't find my _quiet_ slippers," Lucy said. "And I couldn't wear my loud ones. I didn't want to wake anybody."

"And that was a reason to walk around without shoes in early spring when it's still cold? Lion's Mane! Lucy, you're sixteen years old, you should know better!"

While saying all this, Susan pulled Lucy into her own bed and covered her feet with a blanket. Lucy made herself comfortable and listened.

"You know, I even missed your scolding," she said when her sister was finished. "Can we have a talk before I go back to bed?"

Susan sighed. "How are you feeling?" she asked, resignedly.

"Better." Lucy sneezed.

Susan smiled. "I see."

"Tell me about the nobleman's daughter."

"Oh." Susan frowned. "She's very pretty. Very quiet. Very reserved."

"Most Terebithians are, aren't they?" Lucy blew her nose.

"But she is even more so than most. And I feel as if she is unhappy here. While we walked over to her room I tried to make her feel at ease, to ask her about what enjoyed doing and whether there was anything she needed, you know, that sort of thing. And she seemed to grow more and more distressed with every word I said, so I finally stopped talking and we reached her room in silence. And then I said good night and that the servants were available if she needed anything and she just looked at me like she just…couldn't wait for me to leave and then…I left." Susan seemed close to tears.

Well this was so much more than Lucy had expected to hear and she felt that her head was beginning to hurt again. But how awful it must be for Susan! Susan was particularly good at making people feel comfortable and at home, so how terrible it must be for her to see that she couldn't make someone feel at home no matter how hard she tried.

"Maybe what she was distressed about had nothing to do with you," Lucy said. "Maybe she was worried about her family back home. Or just homesick."

"Or maybe she thought I was overly chatty and irritating," Susan moaned.

Lucy smiled. "People have considered me irritating before. It isn't fatal."

Susan glared at Lucy. "I'm being serious. It's difficult to help someone when you don't know what they think about you."

Lucy sneezed and with her sneeze came an idea. "Susan! What if we walk by her door right now and listen?"

Susan seemed lost. "Whatever for?"

"Imagine that when we listen we'll hear a loud snore. Won't that make you feel better? I mean, you just _can't_ worry about a person who is snoring, can you?"

Susan laughed. "I suppose not. But I can't imagine _her_ snoring."

"Then we definitely need to go listen. Even if we hear her breathing quietly, we'll know she is asleep, and that will help, right?"

Susan considered. Yes, it would. A person who was sleeping was somehow at peace. "All right," she agreed. "But you _will_ wear my spare slippers."

They crept along the silent hall together. There was something delightfully adventurous about it, Lucy thought, and told Susan so. Susan answered that it wouldn't seem so tomorrow morning when they both fell asleep while receiving an important diplomat.

They stopped by the door and listened. At first, they heard nothing. And then…they heard a quiet sob. Susan and Lucy stared at each other. _Was_ it a sob? Could it have been a sigh or even a laugh? No. They heard another sob, and that one was most d_efinitely_ a sob.

They walked a few steps away from the door.

"We should ask her what's wrong," said Lucy.

"Perhaps she just wants to be alone to cry," said Susan. "We could make things worse."

"Well, then, I'll wait until she's had a good cry and when she's all finished I'll come in and talk to her," Lucy said, firmly.

"Yes, I suppose, that might be a good idea," said Susan. She was secretly relieved at not having to go in.

Lucy waited for a few minutes and when the sobs seemed to get quieter, she blew her nose, took a deep breath and knocked.

The door opened. The nobleman's daughter stood there, her nose red and her eyes wide. She_ was_ pretty, with auburn hair and long eyelashes; Lucy could see that even though the dark hall and the white nightgown made the girl look rather like a ghost. Or what Lucy pictured a ghost would look like anyway.

"Is something wrong?" the girl asked.

"No, um..." Lucy realized now that asking her if she was all right wasn't a good way to start. "I was wondering if you had a handkerchief I could borrow."

The girl stared. "A handkerchief?"

Lucy conveniently sneezed at that moment and the girl hurriedly offered her a very uncomfortable and starched handkerchief. But Lucy took it and politely said thank you.

"You know, I'm very glad that handkerchiefs exist," she said. "They've helped me make friends so many times. There was that time, I gave my handkerchief to Mr. Tumnus and then he gave it to Mr. Beaver and well, now all three of us are very good friends."

The girl still stared. Lucy was beginning to see what Susan had meant and was beginning to wonder what on Narnia she would talk about next. And then she saw the small ball of fur that was curled up on the girl's bed.

"Oh!" she breathed. "Is that…is that your cat?"

The girl nodded.

"May I please pet her? That is if it won't frighten her too much, having a stranger pet her."

The girl nodded again and Lucy began to softly stroke the silky fur. "I used to have a cat but I gave it away to a servant girl last year and then she left the castle. I've rarely gotten to pet a cat since then," she said. "I mean, talking cats are wonderful but you've got to get to know a talking cat very well before you would even dare to _ask_ her if you can pet her and even then she might consider such a question rude. But that's only natural. Wouldn't you consider it rude if someone wanted to pet you?"

Lucy saw a small twitch around the corners of the girl's mouth. "Yes," she said.

"But then it all depends on how they ask, don't you think?" The cat purred as Lucy scratched gently behind her ears.

"I…I suppose," said the girl.

"I suppose you would also consider it rude if I asked you why you were crying just now," Lucy said.

Whatever hint of a smile there might have been, it immediately disappeared.

"Yes…" said the girl, then, "I mean…no, I wouldn't," then "I was just unhappy. That's all right, isn't it?"

_No, it's not all right_, Lucy thought. But she knew that that wasn't what the girl meant. The girl was asking if she _had_ the right to be unhappy. "Certainly, it's all right," she said. "You can be unhappy all you want."

The girl's eyebrows went up.

"And if you want, you can tell me about it, but you certainly don't have to," Lucy added.

"All right," said the girl.

There was a silence. Lucy sneezed.

"I suppose I had better get back to my room now," she said.

The girl nodded but didn't say anything. Lucy gave the cat one last pat before standing up. And then the girl suddenly smiled a little.

"She likes you," she said.

Lucy's own smile lit up the room. "I like her too," she said. "Good night."


	2. Chapter 2

Aneres' father had done her a great unkindness.

She had not wanted to leave home. She was afraid of strangers, afraid of sailing, afraid of the world and her mother had always humored her fears. But her father had said over and over that she ought to try not to be so timid. It had always grieved her to be such a disappointment to him.

In an attempt to get her to come with him to Narnia, he had promised her that they would stay together at _all_ times, that she would not have to do anything except remain at his side and curtsy prettily. He had _promised. _

But once they had arrived and been properly welcomed, he had 'remembered' that he had to make a quick trip to Archenland and had insisted that there was no reason _at all_ for her to come.

He had _abandoned_ her at Cair Paravel within five minutes of giving her the news.

Of course, Aneres could not tell anybody how she felt. One's anger against one's father was private matter. But then, to Aneres, most matters were private.

The creatures that filled the castle were a daily trial to her. No matter which part of the castle you were in, there was always _somebody_ nearby. That somebody usually started a conversation with you, a conversation which you were forced to keep up. Why couldn't people just smile and enjoy the peaceful silence?

And not all of them were even people. There were talking animals, which Aneres had gradually gotten used to. The fauns,centaurs and minotaurs she could _not _get used to, try as she might. Just looking at them made her tremble although she realized that they meant her no harm.

The one place that Aneres liked to take refuge in was the castle library. Though there were often other creatures at the library, they wouldn't speak to her if they saw that she was reading. She liked the quiet and was fond of books. Besides, the library was such a lovely place. The floor was covered with a soft lavender rug and the ceiling had paintings and names of Narnian plants (so that if you came to the library to learn about plants, you could leave the books in their places and simply read the ceiling.) Aneres would often pick up her cat Taci and take her to the library. There, Taci would curl up at her feet and doze, while she read.

* * *

After Lucy got over her cold, she made it a point to make Anares into a friend.

She had to make a _point_ of it because it just wouldn't come naturally. The girl rarely spoke except to answer a question. She rarely smiled except to be polite. She disliked public events (and most events at the Cair_ were_ public). She seemed frightened to death of Peter and Susan and Edmund no matter how kind they tried to be and more often than not, preferred _not _to spend time with them.

Of course, when Lucy tried hard to see it from her point of view she could. In public, her siblings were so dignified and beautiful and wise that they sometimes intimidated without meaning to. And although Lucy entertained Aneres with stories of just how _undignified_ Peter and Edmund could be when they attacked each other with pillows over some trifle and just how _silly_ Susan looked when trying to scold them into going to bed, Aneres took it all in with an air of polite disbelief.

As one week rolled into another, Lucy told herself that she saw changes. After all, hadn't Aneres smiled a genuine smile the other day? Hadn't she said, "I doubt it" when Lucy had asked whether she thought it would rain? That was _three words, _wasn't it? There _was_ hope. Still, when speaking to her, Lucy sometimes found herself wondering if Aneres preferred her to go away and leave her with that cat she adored so much.

She voiced her concerns to Edmund one day.

"I don't think so," Edmund said. "Not everyone expresses their feelings as _ardently _as you do, Lu. I've been observing her and…although she may be a trifle homesick, I do not think her quietude is a sign of unhappiness. It's rather a part of her character."

"Well, thank you for your observations," Lucy said. She grinned. "She_ is_ pleasant to observe, isn't she?"

Edmund colored a little. "I observe everyone and everything."

* * *

Sometimes, Lucy joined Anares in the library and showed her the volumes _she _particularly liked.

Their tastes differed. Aneres liked legends and fairy-tales. Lucy was fonder of Narnian History, particularly _recent _Narnian history.

"It's such fun to read about myself!" she laughed. "In the books, they make us sound so heroic." She pretended to quote. "_And then the good valiant queen put her cordial to the lips of the dying soldier and he was revived.'_ Tell me, what is so good and valiant about being blessed with a wonderful gift and having the common sense to use it?"

You _are_ a good queen though, thought Aneres. And valiant.

Of course, she never said so.

"We are going to have another visitor soon," Lucy said to Aneres one day.

"Oh?" said Aneres.

"Last year, we had a diplomat from Calormen visit us to negotiate exports and imports and things. We invited him to come again for a visit. This year, he sends his regrets and, with them, his daughter." Lucy frowned thoughtfully. "A Calormene girl is likely to come with slaves. I hope she is familiar with the new Slave Laws." Anares said nothing but Lucy saw the spark of curiosity in her eyes and began to explain. "Whenever we had Calormene visitors, we were at a loss as to how we should treat their slaves. Would they still be considered slaves _here_ in Narnia where there is no slavery? So two years ago, we decided to write up some laws. Here." Lucy reached for a dark blue volume with a golden binding and opened it to one of the last pages.

_ Laws # 159, 160, 161, 162: Concerning Visiting Nobility and Royalty with Slaves_

_159. Any slave that is visiting Narnia with his master or mistress will receive the same treatment as his master or mistress and will be entitled to the same privileges._

_160. Any foreign slave who has committed a crime while residing in Narnia, will be judged as any foreign guest is judged and will be given the same rights under law._

_161. Should a slave escape his master or mistress at the time that they are both residing in Narnia, the Narnian government and its' citizens have the right to offer no assistance in capturing the slave._

_162. Any slave owner who chooses to set his slave free while residing in Narnia will receive a generous gift from the royal treasury._

"Edmund drafted the early version. Peter, Susan and I made some suggestions," explained Lucy.

"I like it," Anares said unexpectedly.

"Do you?" Lucy smiled. "I am not sure we did _enough_ for those poor people. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes," said Anares. She looked for a moment, as if she would say something else but suddenly, the door that they were closest to opened and Edmund walked in with Lord Peridan. They stopped and bowed upon seeing the ladies.

"Fair morning, good my sister," said Edmund. "Fair morning, lady Aneres."

"Indeed, it is fair, brother," Lucy responded. She usually loved the flowery language of the court, its' natural elegance and dignity. She always spoke it in public, only lapsing into common speech when alone with her siblings and close friends, never mixing the two up except in jest. Only she had felt from the beginning that Anares would find it easier to be comfortable when people talked "like regular people," so she spoke to _her_ in that way.

Anares' face flushed when she saw Edmund and Peridan and after her curtsy, she lowered her eyes.

"I took the liberty this morning of showing the good lady Anares the Slave Laws," Lucy said. "She expressed admiration over their content."

"A document indeed worthy of admiration," said Peridan.

Anares' face reddened to a deep shade of scarlet and Edmund found himself pitying her. It must be terribly unpleasant, he thought, to be so painfully shy. "And what does Taci think of the Slave Laws?" he asked, turning his attention from Anares to the cat.

Taci gave him a sleepy, bored glance and closed her eyes again.

"Apparently, not much," Edmund said dryly.

After giving Taci a few friendly strokes, he began to explain that he and Peridan were searching for a certain book about mermaids' rights to keep other creatures from taking seawater near their homes. Once Anares was certain that the attention had been drawn away from her, she dared to look up again. Lucy noticed that although she did not say anything, she listened to the conversation with great interest.

* * *

**Well, here is Chapter Two. I am a little concerned that readers will lose interest at this point because there's not much plot as of yet. Not much has been _happening_. But things _will _happen in Chapter 3, I promise! So have patience if you can. **


	3. Chapter 3

It was wild turkey soup day at Cair Paravel.

Susan adored wild turkey soup. Chicken soup was delicious too with the fresh vegetables and potatoes and spices that the cook put in it, however, _turkey_ soup was like chicken soup with something extra, like chicken soup with an exclamation point.

Lucy was at the local school, where she was spending the day reading to children. Peter and Edmund were caught up with various projects and had said that they would eat later, leaving Susan to have lunch with Anares. It was very quiet with her siblings not there. She was glad to see that at least Anares was enjoying the soup.

In fact, Anares enjoyed it so much that she completely forgot to put aside the customary piece of meat for her cat Taci. Only after the bowl was completely empty, did Anares put her hand to her mouth in consternation. "I forgot," she said quietly.

Taci meowed indignantly by her feet. She was not hungry exactly, since she was fed regularly, but she was used to sampling any meat or fish dishes her mistress might be eating for lunch. She was not used to being forgotten and felt very put out _indeed_.

"Have some more soup," Susan offered quickly. "There's plenty."

But Anares shook her head. She did not feel that it was polite to accept a second bowl either for herself _o_r for Taci. She would take something else.

Susan felt herself go all hot at the prim refusal. She was a motherly person, who felt a perpetual longing to feed everyone and everything. She could see that Anares would_ like_ more soup. There was lots of soup. _Why_ was Anares being so nonsensical?

"Do you _know_ how much soup we have back in the kitchen?" she asked sharply.

Anares drew back, startled. Clearly, she had displeased the queen. She hadn't _meant _to.

"Let me show you. Stand up," Susan commanded regally. "Now follow me."

Anares followed, carrying Taci. She wouldn't dream of refusing a queen's orders but she was beginning to get an aching, awful feeling in her stomach.

* * *

The kitchen was hot and steamy. Seven big pots of soup stood on the stoves and several small tureens were placed on various counters, ready to be taken to various rooms at request. The cook, a she-dwarf named Mirla, stared at Susan and Anares. She wore long-sleeves, an apron and thick gloves. "Yes?" she inquired. "Have_ you_ another list of questions that I must answer or can I start on the preserves?"

Susan frowned. "Questions?"

"Yes, questions. King Edmund was here just a few minutes ago, asking me if I liked my working conditions, if I thought the kitchen was safe, and so on. Very sweet and all, your majesties' concern, but I would like to get some work done today." And with that, Mirla reached over and tapped Taci on the nose, affectionately.

No cat likes being tapped on the nose. Taci was no exception. She leaped from Anares' arms and to the space on the floor behind the nearest counter. Mirla stepped back, startled, and her elbow hit one of the soup tureens on the counter. The soup tureen tipped back.

Suddenly, Edmund was there, snatching the tureen by the red-hot handle and lifting it, just as the soup was about to splash onto Taci. As it was, only a tiny drop reached her, causing a startled meow.

In the first second, Edmund didn't seem to realize that the handle _was_ hot, but in the next few seconds, his eyes widened with pain. He gave a small gasp but didn't drop the tureen, instead placing it onto the counter, carefully.

"Oh, Ed, your hand!"

"Your majesty!I didn't mean to!"

Both Susan and the cook pushed Edmund over to the cold water bucket and literally forced his arm into it. Mirla called for more ice. Then she turned to Aneres. "Do_ not_ bring animals into the kitchen."

"Sour cream," Anares said. "It helps with burns. And I'm sorry."

Of course, the cook _knew_ this. But she had been so flustered by what happened that she had forgotten and Anares's reminder was needed. She went to get a vat of sour cream.

"You shouldn't have grabbed it," Susan whispered to Edmund, hoping Anares would not hear.

_And let a whole tureen of hot soup drop onto a delicate creature such as Taci? _Edmund thought. He said, "The pain alone would have killed the cat on contact."

Susan considered this and realized that he was right.

Mirla returned with the sour cream.

"I'll put it on myself," Edmund said. He drew his arm out of the water bucket. Immediately, his palm began to burn and sting as if it was still in contact with the hot handle. For a moment, he could not think of what to do next.

Before he knew it, Anares had covered his palm in sour cream, pulled off her long, soft hair ribbon and wrapped the ribbon around his hand in a sort of bandage. Then, she placed more ice on top of his bandaged palm. Only, then, she looked around, searching for Taci.

She saw that Susan had already picked her up and was holding her firmly.

Edmund felt the coolness spread through his hand and immediately, was aware of the concerned faces of the three others. He smiled. "Well, my research paid off. The kitchen is safe for professionals but definitely _not_ safe enough for visitors such as kings, queens and cats. Now, let's have lunch, shall we?"

* * *

They had lunch. In her worry about Edmund's hand, Susan completely forgot that the Calormene diplomat's daughter was scheduled to arrive today.

Edmund reminded her. Then he added, "Do you think that you and Peter could manage to welcome her without me? It's not that I couldn't be there. I just know that you don't really _need_ me. And she won't be offended at my absence if you tell her that I got injured this morning."

Susan sighed but didn't argue. She also told Anares that she did not have to be there to welcome the Calormene girl unless she wanted to.

Anares stood. "King Edmund, thank you again, for saving my cat," she said. Her voice shook a bit. Her eyes dropped to Edmund's bandaged hand, then, she turned quickly and left. Edmund looked after her and bit his lip. She was clearly upset. But he had no idea how to make it better.

* * *

Susan made her way into the receiving room.

Jasmeen was lovely. Her dark hair was braided in some kind of complicated pattern down her back and her silk top, trousers and slippers were the color of coral. She beamed at all of them and swept them a Calormene curtsy. Susan curtsied too. Peter made a welcoming speech and expressed the hope that Narnia and Calormen would always be at peace.

Joshta, the slave, was tall and strong with the expected olive skin and dark eyes, in his early twenties. He bowed to each monarch in turn and, then, asked Jasmeen if he could retire to the room that had been provided for him.

"You may," Jasmeen said sternly. "But I am _still_ put out with you. And you must come to my room at precisely three. I have some work for you."

Something flickered in Joshta's eyes. It was very quick and Susan didn't quite catch it but perhaps it was…hurt? Then, he turned around and left the receiving room.

There was a brief silence. Susan understood that this was her cue. "Would you like to visit the garden or the seaside, tarkheena? Or would you prefer to get some rest first?"

Jasmeen thought for a moment. "Is the garden shaded? I care quite a bit about my skin."

"We can take sun umbrellas."

In the end, that is what they did. The garden in the back of Cair Paravel was a marvel and although Jasmeen was probably used to remarkable flowers surrounding her, she seemed to enjoy this one.

"You must think I am silly to be afraid of the sun," Jasmeen said to Susan as they walked. "But it is the fashion right now to lighten one's skin. You are fortunate to be naturally pale."

"I think your skin is a beautiful color."

"Of course it is," Jasmeen said, surprised. "But that has nothing to do with _fashion._"

Susan smiled. "May I ask you a question?" she ventured. "Do not answer it if you don't wish to."

"Of course," Jasmeen said. "I have my own list of questions for you, so I don't mind answering yours in the least."

"Why are you put out with Joshta?"

Jasmeen hesitated. She bit her lip. "It is a whole story. You see, before we got on the ship, we had to travel from our home to the docks. My younger sister accompanied us and we spent the night with a good friend of my father's. In the morning, my sister put on a new gown with a neckline that was rather…low. Or at least too low for a girl of eleven."

Susan nodded. She was following this so far.

"So, as we were standing by the dock, saying our goodbyes, Joshta said to her, 'Mistress, you must change your gown before you and your slaves begin the journey back home. It would not do to wear _that _as you are carried through the city.'" Jasmeen stopped and folded her arms. "Can you believe it?"

Susan frowned and tried to understand. "He shouldn't have said anything about how she looked?"

Jasmeen stomped her foot. "Well, naturally, there's _that_. But also, he gave her an order. He said 'you must' to my sister, who is _clearly_ his superior. He has no right. And correcting how she dresses is _my_ job."

Susan considered what to say. She tried to imagine a male servant giving Lucy that sort of advice. Even though, Lucy would never dress improperly, still, she tried to imagine it. And she concluded that she would be very _grateful_ to someone like that. So she said, "I see," and left it at that.

* * *

It was late evening. Edmund had applied sour cream to his hand several times, as well as another cream the doctor recommended. Still, it stung and ached and the skin felt wrinkly, as if there was a large blister. Worst of all, it was his right hand, so he couldn't write. Edmund felt cross and ashamed of himself for feeling this way. He was a Narnian knight and ought to laugh at such a small injury. If only it wasn't so blasted uncomfortable!

Lucy peeked into Edmund room, eyes full of sympathy. She had just returned and been told about this morning's accident. "Ed, are you _sure_, you won't use the cordial?"

Edmund scowled. "We can't waste it on nonsense. One more word about it and _you _will need the cordial because I will push you out of the window."

Lucy fell silent.

"You did the proper thing," she finally said. "I don't know how miserable Anares would have been if her cat was hurt or killed."

"I'd like you to go talk to her," Edmund said. "Now."

Lucy frowned, puzzled. "Certainly. Why the urgency?"

"Because she is probably miserable all the same. She thinks the whole thing with my hand is her fault, she feels terribly guilty and thinks that we all blame her."

Lucy's eyebrows went up, then, towards the middle of her forehead. "Why didn't you speak to her yourself then? And how do you know what she thinks?"

Edmund ignored the first question and answered the second. "I just do," he said. "That's how sensitive people like her react. Go, speak to her. Tell her, I am quite all right and enjoying my evening."

"I do not _lie_," Lucy said with a sniff. "It is plain that you are_ not_ enjoying your evening. But you can be strong and tough when you see her tomorrow and act like your hand doesn't bother you a bit." She smiled. "After all, your heart can feel what her heart is feeling."

After Lucy had gone, Edmund opened the fist on his other hand. He had Anares' hair ribbon in it. It wasn't very clean anymore. But it was _hers_. He decided to hide it and keep it.

* * *

**Reading over this chapter, Susan appears rather unpleasant. Really, I didn't mean to make her that way. Everyone has their weaknesses and for Susan, the weakness is that she is just _not_ heroic and doesn't like it when her family is either. But she's going to prove herself a bit more later on, I know she will.**


	4. Chapter 4

Susan woke up at dawn and could not get back to sleep.

She had dreamed a dream that involved hot pans of soup tipping over and her trying to push Edmund out of the way, only to have him say, "I must grab the pot because I was an awful person once and I am still trying to make up for it."

Horrid nonsense, Susan told herself. If Peter had been in Edmund's place, surely he would have done the same. It just happened to be Edmund. Only it _always_ happened to be Edmund.

Susan gave up on sleep. She decided to wash up and go over to the library to read some romantic poetry before the day began.

She had grown increasingly less romantic lately. It had been the gentle, romantic part of her that was so fascinated by Prince Rabadash a few years ago. And that had turned out to be a mistake of _such _magnitude that it had caused a battle and people had died. Now Susan mistrusted her own romantic feelings and her gentleness, even as she was reminded of it each time someone used her full title.

However, she still allowed herself poetry.

She wore her softest shoes. She walked down the steps lightly and pushed the heavy wooden doors of the Cair Paravel library.

Immediately, she saw him, a man dressed in a Calormene tunic, standing at the end of the long corridor lined with bookshelves, completely lost in the blue-covered book he was holding open. It was Joshta. At that moment, he glanced up and met her eyes.

Susan felt her face go hot. It seemed so intimate, this moment he was sharing with the book in the silence of the library, that she felt as if she had interrupted him undressing.

Joshta's face paled as he looked at her. He lowered the book. He took a step backwards.

"Don't go!" Susan said. "Don't…"

But Joshta had already gone.

Susan sighed. She still tried to read poetry after that but she kept seeing those dark startled eyes. Perhaps, her voice had been too sharp. Was he afraid of her just like Anares? Why did she keep accidentally frightening people?

* * *

Eventually, she went back to her room to change her shoes.

Normally, Susan left her shoes outside the room to be shined every evening from 8 to 9 PM. She and Lucy both had their shoes shined by a fourteen year-old centauress named Sirene. She was an orphan who lived and worked at Cair Paravel (when she wasn't going to school or studying). She was rather meek for her species, preferring to perform small tasks for the two queens more than any other occupation, although she had been given a choice where to work.

As Susan picked up her purple slippers to bring them inside the room, she suddenly glimpsed something white inside one slipper. She pulled it out. It was a piece of rolled up parchment.

Silene did not generally leave her notes. They were comfortable enough with each other that the girl could always speak to her. But perhaps, she hadn't had the time?

She unrolled it:

_Queen Susan,__  
__I write this letter to ask you for a favor which would easy for you to grant and means a great deal to me._

Susan's eyes dropped to the bottom of the letter. It was not signed.

She went back to reading.

_This morning, you saw me looking at an object. I only ask that you don't mention what you saw to anyone_.  
_I had a friend. He told clever and lively stories to others like himself. He was warned to stop several times. We are not supposed to be clever and we must be very careful with our jests. He had been too free. Finally, his tongue was cut out and he was given as a gift to a very rich man who needed someone to keep his secrets. _

_I ask that you show me mercy by saying nothing._

Of course, Susan understood who the writer was. She put the letter down and shuddered.

Didn't Joshta _know_ how much the Narnians valued reading? Did he really think she was such a cold-blooded heartless thing that she would get pleasure from reporting what she had seen? But then, Joshta had seen her and Jasmeen talking and laughing yesterday, as good acquaintances do. What would keep him from concluding that they were on the same side?

He must have been so frightened when she discovered him that morning. He must have thought and concluded that this was his only hope, a plea for mercy. But it was a dignified plea. There was no groveling in it, no self-debasement. She wondered if Joshta had ever asked for mercy before in his life and whether it had been granted. The thought made sudden tears fill her eyes.

She wouldn't just keep silent as he had asked. She would do _more._

* * *

Edmund came to breakfast early. Whenever something made him uncomfortable, whether it was nerves or a headache, a battle wound or a slight burn, he was always more hungry that usual. Everyone knew this.

The next ones to arrive were Lucy and Anares. Edmund studied them. "Something is missing," he said, puzzled.

"Good morning to you too," Lucy said pointedly.

"Yes, yes, good morning," Edmund said distractedly, bowing.

Mirla was walking rapidly by with a tray but stopped upon seeing Anares. Her face turned slightly red, and she reached out to touch Anares on the arm. "About yesterday…I was a bit abrupt with you because I was worried, you see. We, dwarves, tend to say things directly. But I'm hoping you don't take it the wrong way."

Anares's eyes filled for a moment. "Oh, no," she said. "I understand." She had never even thought of being put out with Mirla but still, those words…they somehow meant a lot.

Mirla turned to Edmund. "I made extra toast," she said to him confidingly and hurried on.

Suddenly, Edmund slapped his forehead with his good hand. "Taci! She isn't here."

'You are right," Anares said.

"Is she _well_?" Edmund asked. He was concerned now for Anares had never left her cat behind before.

"Yes," said Anares. She said no more.

"Edmund," said Lucy. "You'll need to find yourself a partner in the chess tournament. _ I_ am playing against Peter today." She looked at him meaningfully and smiled.

* * *

Joshta was carrying a silver vial of sweetened orange juice to the tarkheena's room. She had insisted on having fresh orange juice brought to her room in the morning, even though she would be breakfasting with the Narnians within the next half hour. Joshta did not mind. It was easy work as far as work went.

He had spent the morning asking the servants about queen Susan, trying to understand what sort of person she was and whether she could be trusted. He had tried not to show anyone how shaken he was and, truth be told, how_ afraid_. All the servants had only good things to say about her which meant that she would probably not describe their earlier meeting in the library to the tarkheena with any evil intent. But she might mention it accidentally, not knowing any better. And Joshta knew, better than anyone in this kindly country, how much harm a simple remark could do. He had finally decided to leave the letter in her shoe. One had to trust _someone_, after all.

Now, he would try to have a pleasant morning and hope for the best. And he would not return to the library again. No, he had learned his lesson.

He knocked on the tarkheena's bedroom door using his customary slave knock.

"Come in!" Jasmeen's voice called.

Joshta opened the door and found himself in front of queen Susan. He glanced down quickly, noticing the purple slippers glimmering on her feet. She must have read the note.

Susan was still speaking to Jasmeen. "It's all settled then? We will take care of business in the morning, and we'll all have the chess tournament after lunch, when it gets hot."

"Perfect," Jasmeen said, as she came to the door in a lavender nightgown, her dark hair flowing over her shoulders. "I adore chess." She took the vial of orange juice.

Joshta bowed, ready to leave.

"I was just telling Queen Susan that it's really shameful how little work you have, now that you are here," Jasmeen said. "And as she was agreeing with me, I had an excellent idea." She took a delicate sip. "Queen Susan needs someone to sweep the library."

Joshta stood motionless.

Susan spoke up. "I know it is a maid's job," she said apologetically, "But we are interviewing girls right now for the position. Meanwhile, the library is getting dusty. We would pay wages," she finished.

Jasmeen laughed. "And what would he do with wages? He shall do it for free and he shall do it _well_."

The queen had arranged this for _him_, Joshta thought, stunned. He did not look at queen Susan. He was afraid that Jasmeen might see something hidden passing between them. He only bowed. Somehow, he would thank her later.


	5. Chapter 5

There were twenty-three Narnians gathered in the ballroom for the chess tournament. Anares noticed, with surprise, that many of the servants chose to take part and the lords and ladies partnered with them without any qualms. In Teribinthia, it would have never been like that. The servants might get their _own_ chess tournament but there would be no mixing.

King Peter went over the rules. "We play two games with our partners. Those who have a tie, play again. Then, those who win play against each other and those who lose play against each other. Giants and their partners use the large chess sets."

"Giants might as well play against each _other_," murmured Mirla, "And save us all the trouble of besting them."

Peter frowned at the statement. "There is no favoritism at Cair Paravel," he said sternly. "Now, I believe everyone except Tumnus is here and his partner has agreed to wait. So the tournament begins _now_." He turned and smiled at Lucy. "Fair sister, would you set up the board?"

Lucy did, her blue eyes glowing.

* * *

Anares watched. It was evident that those two adored each other. She realized that Lucy had been spending so much time with her in the past week that she had probably missed Peter. She stroked Taci and looked around the room, searching for someone who looked like they needed a partner, perhaps that little centauress she had seen shining shoes.

Someone tapped her lightly on the turned around. It was Edmund. "I don't believe you have a partner. Will I do?"

Anares felt herself blushing. She nodded.

* * *

Joshta finished sweeping the library exactly a half hour after he had started. His eyes travelled longingly to the shelves. But he did not dare. The tarkheena might stop by, claiming to want a book, but really to check if he was performing his duties well. He heard the click clack of hooves and an elderly faun with a red beard stepped around the corner.

Joshta bowed.

The faun's eyes twinkled. "I was just speaking with the Queen Susan and…she wanted me to tell you that she was keeping the tarkheena occupied with the chess tournament for the next two hours at least." He said no more.

Joshta got his meaning but felt uneasy. It bothered him that the queen was telling others about his love for books. He had thought that it would be their secret. Would she also tell others about the note he had written?

"My name is Tumnus," added the faun.

"Thank you," Joshta said stiffly. "Joshta is mine."

"Everyone knows who you are. Everyone is wondering."

"Wondering?"

The faun looked right into his eyes. "Wondering when you will run."

Joshta was stunned. "Do you mean everyone _wants_ me to?"

"Of course, we want you to run." As the faun reached for a book, he said calmly, "If you were looking for a place to stay, not a single home would turn you away."

Joshta smiled a little sadly. It was so pleasant and startling, this feeling that all of Cair Paravel, no, all of _Narnia_ was on his side, wantinghim to be free. But they did not know. He carried the chains of Calormen with him wherever he went.

_Run._ As if it was that simple.

"When I was ten," Joshta said. "A slave girl ran away from our household. Our master punished us for letting her get away. I was flogged along with everyone else. For a month I could not lift my arms, my shoulders hurt so. And I hated her for years after that. This is the way our master does things. And this is why I will never run."

Tumnus' face grew long and sorrowful. "I've both hurt my friends and _been_ hurt by friends," he said. "I understand why you would not want to do so."

* * *

Edmund and Anares played chess.

Anares wasn't a poor player, Edmund thought. No, she was decent. But she had one flaw in her strategy that he could see clearly and it kept her from victory. He wouldn't _say_ so for the world. He didn't want to be her instructor, just her friend.

Anares was enjoying herself. She loved chess, loved it for the silences full of thoughts that fizzed in the air. And she loved playing with Edmund, who had a way of rubbing his chin as he thought and lifting the chess pieces so softly that they made no sound.

She lost and began setting up the pieces for the second time. When she looked up, Edmund was studying her, bemused. "You don't mind losing at all, do you?" he asked.

"No, I don't mind," Anares said honestly. "I like the game."

They played on. Something was different about this game, and when Anares captured two of Edmund's rooks, she finally saw it. Dare she comment on it?

She decided to do so and only hoped she wasn't being rude. "You don't mind losing either, I suppose," she said.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you're losing on purpose." Anares' lips twitched.

Edmund laughed out loud. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice."

_I'm no fool_, Anares thought. But she only asked, "Why?"

Edmund decided to be very frank. "I want another game with you," he said, smiling.

* * *

The biggest surprise for Susan was that Jasmeen was remarkably good at chess. She thought about her moves for a while but when she acted, she was clever and ruthless.

"Do you play a lot at home?" Susan asked.

Jasmeen shook her head. "In Calormen, its mostly a game for children and warriors. Not young women. And even my young sister doesn't play because my father thinks - " she hesitated and corrected herself, "because she is occupied with other things." She moved another piece. "Checkmate."

Susan smiled. This was the second game Jasmeen had easily won."That is a lovely trap you've set up for my king." Then she added, "I'd like to know what your father thinks."

Jasmeen rose. "Father _knows _that chess is not a good game for women to play. It teaches them deceit and trickery. And a woman must be as transparent as a drop of dew on the grass." She walked towards the door.

"Aren't you going to play with someone else?" Susan asked, following her.

Jasmeen shook her head. She seemed irritated at something. "I think I'd prefer to take a walk outside. Alone, queen Susan. _Alone._"

Susan drew back, stunned by the rudeness of that last statement. "All right,"she said. "Take an umbrella, it may rain."

* * *

It was two hours later and Mirla was making a special kind of ice cream in the Calormen style in honor of the visiting Calormene lady. At least, she was trying. Mirla was an accomplished cook who had made Narnian ice cream many, many times. However, this recipe did not call for any sort of dairy, which made the consistency very different. Whatever she did with _this_ ice-cream, it was either too liquid or too hard and chunky. Her conscience would reproach her if she threw out such a large amount of sugar and fruit just because the consistency was wrong. And being a cook, Mirla knew, absolutely _knew_, that there was probably some simple secret that made all the difference.

She finally, decided to call Joshta and ask him for his advice. He had grown up in Calormen after all. Surely, he _must_ have seen someone make ice-cream once or twice.

* * *

Jasmeen set her wet shoes outside the door and put on her dry ones. She had not taken an umbrella and to her great irritation, it _had _rained. What she wanted was hot chocolate. Yes, hot chocolate was absolutely necessary. She waited for a servant to come along, so she could ask.

Eventually, a horse-girl came walking down the hall, placing shoes into a basket. What were the horse-girls called again? Jasmeen had forgotten.

"Put your basket down," Jasmeen said.

The horse girl stopped and looked at her, curiously.

"Put it down," said Jasmeen. "And go bring me some hot chocolate. Make sure there is cinnamon in it."

The girl made a slight bow. "I'm sorry, lady, but I cannot. My job is to take care of the shoes. I have to study for a mathematics exam today, so I really haven't the time to do anything else. Do you know the way to the kitchen? I can explain how to get there and the cooks will gladly make you some hot chocolate."

Jasmeen stared. The girl's tone was deferential, gentle, but Jasmeen knew when she was being snubbed.

"A servant has no business worrying about mathematics," she said. "A servant exists _only_ to please her superiors."

The girl's face reddened. "Not in Narnia," she said quietly. Then, she picked up Jasmeen's wet shoes, carefully, delicately, and placed them into the basket.

Jasmeen stood, cold with fury. Then, she marched over to the kitchen. She _would_ have her hot chocolate. And afterwards, she would speak to Queen Susan and demand an apology from the horse-girl. A ridiculous _apology_ was all that she could demand because she understood by now that Narnians did not punish their servants, She thought all this as she opened the door to the kitchen.

And what she saw made her forget all about the horse-girl.

The kitchen smelled like raspberries, lemon and sugar. Her slave Joshta stood right next to one of the cooks, holding a cookbook. He was clearly _reading _from it. Out loud.

Joshta turned to Jasmeen and his face paled.

"Put the book down and come with me," Jasmeen said.

The hot chocolate could wait.


	6. Chapter 6

Anares could not understand it.

Her father had left Cair Paravel three weeks ago. Mail from Archenland had arrived today right after lunch and there were _no_ letters from him.

She was not as frightened or lonely as she had been when she first arrived. Slowly, she was finding her place among these kind strangers. But _her father_ didn't know that. She felt a little angry flame begin to flicker inside of her. He o_ught _to have been worried about her and he _ought _to have written. Didn't he care at all?

She glanced out her window. Susan, Lucy and Jasmeen were wading in the water, dressed in their bathing gowns. They had invited her to come but Anares had declined. Now, she thought, she ought to join them on the shore, even if she didn't go into the water.

Suddenly, as she watched, Susan turned around and walked back to the shore. Her face was quite pale and startled. She sat down on the blanket that was spread out on the sand and wrapped her arms around her wet lavender skirt. Something had unsettled her, had made her unhappy. _What?_

Anares made sure Taci had some water in her bowl and stepped outside her room.

* * *

When she got to the shore, she found all three of the ladies sitting on their blankets. Lucy was sitting on Susan's left, focusing furiously on a bit of wet sand, shaping it into something. Jasmeen was on Susan's right, speaking to her. In contrast to her usual lazy way of speaking, she sounded earnest, as if trying to make Susan see something.

"I can't risk father learning that I was keeping something from him. He would be furious. And a disgraced daughter is like a flower in the desert. People stop to look and sympathize but in the end, she is still all alone and no one will help her. So I _must_ tell him all about it."

"I understand," Susan said with an overly bright smile. It did not reach her eyes.

Lucy got to her feet. "Anares, what do you think of my art?" she said sweetly.

Anares stared. Out of wet sand, Lucy had fashioned a head sticking out of the ground, some quickly molded facial features, and a Calormene turban on it. A real arrow was stuck in it, right at the point where the turban began.

It was not the sort of thing Lucy usually created _at all_.

"Um…it's interesting," Anares managed to say.

Lucy got up, pulled out the arrow and kicked her creation with her bare foot, breaking it up into a mushy patch. "I must go practice my archery," she said. "Please, excuse me."

And then she was gone.

Something was clearly wrong but they would not discuss it. Perhaps, Lucy would tell her later. But maybe she wouldn't. Maybe it was too private, even for her to inquire about.

"Why don't you swim?" Susan asked Anares. She was making an effort to be pleasant but her eyes were stormy and troubled about something.

"I'll swim tomorrow," Anares said.

* * *

It was two hours later that Anares heard a knock on her door. She opened it and there stood Queen Susan, excited and flushed. "I have got an idea, Anares, and I need your help. This is dreadfully important!"

Anares let her in. "I'm a bit confused," she said.

"Naturally, you are! I'll explain everything." Susan sat down. "The other day, Joshta the slave got into terrible trouble with Jasmeen. He was reading a cookbook out loud and she heard him do it. Mirla, our head cook, told me about it. So today I asked Jasmeen, casually, what would be done to punish Joshta. And she said that it was up to her father to decide back in Calormen but usually, slaves get, well… they get branded with hot iron or blinded in one eye or something equally horrible. I'm sorry if I am frightening you."

Anares nodded. She wasn't particularly frightened. Just because she was timid did not mean that she was sheltered. She hated cruel things but coming from a land where slavery was still allowed (thought frowned upon), she had heard of them.

Susan kept talking. "So I asked Tumnus whether there was some way to help Joshta and he explained that since Joshta would not run away, the only thing he could do was purchase his own freedom. For that he would need finances and they would need to be honestly acquired and fairly soon. So I thought, if Joshta does something heroic, something really brave, then, as High King, Peter can reward him with money. This will help him purchase his freedom as soon as he goes back to Calormen. The most brave thing Joshta can do, in my opinion, is save _a _lady from drowning. And that lady shall be _you_."

Anares gasped. "Me?"

"Not _really _save you, of course. It would be an act, some theatre, that's all, done at a distance where Jasmeen can't really see what you're doing."

"_Me_?" Anares repeated. "Why not _you_?" She immediately, grew hot with shame. It seemed like such a forward question. But Queen Susan's behavior was forward too. Why did she assume that Anares _cared_ enough about her stratagem to do something so terrifying?

Susan crossed her arms. "Well, for one thing, Jasmeen knows that I can swim well. She has not seen you swim yet. You _can_ swim, I suppose?"

Anares nodded slowly.

"So I assume you did not go swimming earlier today because – " Susan paused, "Well, sometimes, _women can't._"

Anares felt her face growing redder and redder. Susan was right, of course, but Anares hated having such things discussed or brought to light. She forced herself to nod again.

"So she doesn't know how well you swim. That's one reason. And another reason is that if it should be discovered somehow, Lucy or I cannot be blamed. We're queens and it's so important to keep the peace with Calormen and if it should get out that we were playing a joke (that's what they'll see it as) on Jasmeen, there would be trouble for all of Narnia."

"Have you told Lucy all of this?" Anares asked.

"No, I went straight to you. But of course, she will be told as soon as we decide on the details. That is, if you say yes."

Anares closed her eyes. Here is where it would end. Her friendship with Susan. And she was beginning to really like her. Although there were things that infuriated her about Susan, the fact that Susan tried to be too close and too soon, the fact that she wanted to know everything about you, Anares could see the noble heart underneath it all. Susan was quite wonderful. And from this point, they would not be friends like before. They simply wouldn't.

"I'm sorry, Susan," she whispered. "Acting, in front of people? I can't. You'll have to ask a servant to do it."

Susan drew back. Then, she took a deep breath. "Anares, I know it would be difficult for you. Much more difficult than it would be for either me or Lucy. But…you'd be _saving_ a person, you see. The Calormen like to match the punishment with the crime...and he was _reading._ They might put out his eyes. Or they might put out one eye but draw out the agony to make their point! And you have the power to stop it."

Anares had turned away and she felt tears slipping down her cheeks, tears of anger at her own helplessness, but there was only one answer she could give. "I'm sorry, Susan. I just can't."


End file.
